The Adventures of Olivia Wickham
by I found my Mr. Darcy
Summary: Just how did Olivia and her sisters find their way to Pemberley at the end of Love Unsought? Read this short story to find out. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_The canon characters do not belong to me, the rest is all mine._

 _This is intended as a companion piece to Love Unsought, though it will function as a stand alone story as well. The final story is only about 10K words, but I'll still make 4 posts of it. The story is complete, so no worries there. If you have read Love Unsought, then you've probably wondered just how Lydia's children made it to Pemberley. I've known all along and I thought it was time to share..._

 **Prologue**

When George and Lydia Wickham married and removed to Northumbria where they were to be innkeepers at the Hammer and Tongs, their feelings on the situation could not have been more contradictory. Mr. Wickham was sullen, resentful, and determined to hate everything. The new Mrs. Wickham, though disappointed to be so far from her family, was, in general, filled with all the excitement of a new bride beginning life with a husband she adored. The couple's first child, Olivia Jane, was born some seven months after their marriage. Wickham gave every outward appearance of happiness when his daughter was born. Inwardly, he added the girl to his list of injuries and resentments. She should have been a son. Lydia owed him a son!

It was not long before Wickham decided Northumbria and the merchants to whom he owed money were not to his liking. He left the Hammer and Tongs behind and moved his young family to a new situation. In nine years the family moved no fewer than a dozen times. Each situation was worse than the last as they left behind mounting debts and were forced to take cheaper and cheaper lodgings. More children came and with each successive girl, Wickham grew more resentful. He often absented himself from his family, took work wherever he could find it and gambled away most of his meager earnings.

After ten years and nearly as many pregnancies, Lydia, who had begun her marriage full of youthful dreams, was exhausted and turned to alcohol for comfort. Spirits did not judge, condemn, yell or disappoint. Spirits made no demands, did not require feeding and asked nothing of her. Her husband was often away for weeks at a time, her children were hungry, and she would not consider asking her family for assistance.

The youngest of five daughters, Lydia had been estranged from all her family save her mother since her marriage. Though her mother often wrote to Lydia, she did not offer assistance of any kind to her favourite daughter. Instead, she sent pages bemoaning her own situation and telling of the charmed lives of her other daughters. Lydia could not bring herself to resent their good fortune, nor did she have the courage to ask for their help. She sank deeper into her exhaustion and despair until she all she had for her own children were stories of happier days and far-away places.

 **Olivia's Tale**

Nine-year-old Olivia Jane Wickham, eldest daughter of George and Lydia Wickham, sat at a rickety table covered in cooking grease and fine ash and looked around the filthy one-room cottage her family currently called home. Her four younger sisters lay huddled together on a straw mattress on the floor in the corner furthest from the door. She took in a floor covered in the dust that came easily through the chinks in the wall. The window was cracked and the door barely fulfilled its office. Above the cold fireplace to her right was a shelf holding a few fractured bowls and several spoons. Finally, her gaze settled back on her sisters. Like their chemises and the ragged curtain on the lone window, the thin blanket covering her sisters was an indeterminate shade of gray. She thought it might once have been white.

Olivia was grateful that it was summer. In the winter this place would be unbearably cold. Whatever she found for breakfast would have to be eaten cold, there was neither wood nor coal for cooking. She sighed. Her parents had been gone for almost a se'nnight. They had left before, but never for this long. Usually it was only a day or two. Her mother would stop drinking long enough to make a few preparations before leaving the younger children in Olivia's care. A day or two later, husband and wife would return and the cycle would begin again. Both parents would drink, Papa would leave and Mama would go fetch him. The last time Papa left, it was Thursday. Her mother left the following morning. Now it was Tuesday. The last of the meager food in the house was eaten the previous morning and she put her siblings to bed with empty stomachs. There was nothing for it, she had to find food and she had to take her sisters away from this place. She did not know how far it was from Durham to Derbyshire, if they would be welcome where she wished to go or if that place even existed, but she had to take a chance. She had to find a way to the mythical Pemberley of her mother's oft repeated stories.

From her earliest memories, Olivia could recall her mother speaking of aunts and uncles she had never met who lived in places far to the south. Far being relative of course to her child's mind. Her aunts were from such distant places as Leicestershire, Staffordshire, and Derbyshire. According to her mother, they were all kind and beautiful and very rich. Olivia asked once if being rich meant they always had enough to eat. Her mother laughed her sad laugh and said that where her aunts lived, even the poorest tenants had enough to eat. Olivia then asked why, if her aunts and uncles were so very rich, they did not share with her family. It seemed terribly unfair that she and her sisters should so often go hungry if there were people who might help.

"Ollie, love, I once did your Aunt Darcy a very great wrong. And while I have no doubt she would not let you go hungry if she knew of our circumstances, I cannot bring myself to tell her. I cannot ask anything of _any_ of my sisters after what I have done. They are lost to me." Lydia said this as she took another deep drink from the amber bottle that seemed always to be near at hand.

Olivia's eyes grew wide. "What did you do, Mama?"

"That is a tale for another time, when you are older. Now, go mind your sisters while I see to your papa." Lydia pushed herself roughly back from the table and stumbled out the door.

There were many variations on that conversation over the years. Lydia told her daughter stories of a place called Longbourn where there were pretty dresses and ribbons and dances with handsome men. She talked about her sisters and how one of them was going to see the whole world. But mostly, she talked about the sister called Aunt Darcy. Aunt Darcy married a prince and they lived in a castle called Pemberley, near Lambton in Derbyshire. Lydia spoke most often of Pemberley when there was a new baby coming or when Wickham was away. She had never been there herself, she told Olivia. But she knew it was as large as a castle and even more beautiful. She had heard it all from her husband and he said the walls of Pemberley shone like gold in the afternoon sun. There were forests and lakes and meadows and streams and even the lowliest servants ate like kings every day. At Pemberley everyone had wood in the winter, nice clothes, and plenty of food.

Olivia was thinking of her mother's stories as she waited for the night to pass. As the first strains of dawn began to break, she slipped silently from the little house. She was depending on her sisters keeping to their usual sleeping habits. Her only real concern was that baby Maria, who was only a year old, would wake before she returned. If that happened, Maria would cry and wake the others. Six-year-old Hannah would panic and her distress would make five-year-old Lucy and three-year-old Frances start wailing and all the noise might alert the neighbours to their situation. Olivia did not know for certain what would happen then, but she thought it was something to do with the church and the girls never being together again. She hesitated a moment longer before deciding the reward of food was well worth the risk of discovery.

Leaving was the right choice in the end. Moving as silently as she could, Olivia walked to the inn where her parents normally worked. They often spent the night away and part of her hoped she might still find them within. She did not. But she did find the large pot of mutton stew that had been left out. She wondered whether it was stealing when the food was obviously meant to be thrown out. She reasoned it was not, so long as she returned the kettle later. Olivia tiptoed up the steps and had just reached to heft the pot to her shoulder when the back door swung open.

"'ey! You dere! Ain't you one o' dem Wickham brats?" Mr. Keep was looking especially fierce to

Olivia's eyes and she stuttered an unintelligible answer. "Wha's that? Ya are. I know ya are. Yer de oldest one. Yer da's all-ays talkin' 'bout how yer too smart fer yer own good. Whaddya doin' sneakin' round back 'ere?"

"I, I," Olivia stammered.

Mr. Keep looked closely at the child before him then at the pot of stew. His eyes drew together as realization dawned. "You was gonna steal dat stew pot! Just like yer da. Takin' what ain't yers to take!"

Olivia grew incensed and felt her courage rise, as it did whenever she began to feel intimidated. Her mother said she was like her Aunt Darcy in that respect. Olivia would not know. She had never met her mythical aunt. "You were only going to feed it to that fat, lazy dog of yours! It is not possible for me to steal what you meant throw away! My sisters are hungry and your dog could stand to miss a meal or two!"

For a moment she thought she might have said too much. Then Mr. Keep burst out in a jovial laugh. He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and said, "Ya got me dere lassie! Ya got me dere. Now, c'mon inside and let's get you somethin' proper like to eat. Mind you tell yer da it's comin' outta his pay!"

Olivia made a noncommittal sound she hoped would be taken for agreement. She did not think she would see her father again soon, but she was not inclined to share that information with Mr. Keep. She perched on a chair in the kitchen and watched as the rotund man gathered old bread, a block of cheese, and scraps of cold meat. He put them all in a basket and turned back to his guest. "Now, take dis back to yer sisters and tell yer da iffin 'e don' come in t'day 'e'll fin' hisself wifout work." Olivia assured Mr. Keep she would pass his message to her papa as soon as she saw him.

"Alright den, off wit' ya. I gots a delivery all da way from Derbyshire comin' dis mornin' an I don' need any little gu'ersnipes in da way."

Olivia's hopes soared and she sprinted home. She had already been gone much longer than she had planned and now there was work to be done. A delivery from Derbyshire! Olivia was determined to learn all she could about this mysterious delivery and whether the driver would be returning from whence he came. She arrived at the shabby cottage she called home just as her sisters were beginning to wake. Hannah and Lucy met her at the door.

"Ollie! I thought you had left us too!" Hannah exclaimed.

"And we are very hungry," added Lucy solemnly. "Will there be any breakfast today?"

"Of course I did not leave you, silly. And yes, I have brought some lovely treats for breakfast. Look! We have bread, and cheese and even a little meat. Why, it is almost a feast!" Olivia laughed and hugged her younger sisters. "Now, I need your help. Hannah, you go fetch some water and Lucy, you must help me wake the babies."

When Hannah returned with water the Wickham sisters gathered on the floor to enjoy their breakfast. Afterwards, they returned the leftover food to Mr. Keep's basket and listened as Olivia told them her plans. Hannah and Lucy listened. Frances busily explored the cottage and Maria played with a stick, alternately waving it about, banging it on the floor, and chewing on it.

"I do not think Mama and Papa are coming back." Olivia stated flatly. This was the most important point. Her sisters must be made to understand that their parents were not returning. Otherwise they would never consent to leaving themselves. Hannah and Lucy's eyes grew wide and she said, "They have never been gone so long before, and even Mr. Keep has not seen them. They are not at the inn or the tavern."

Hannah's eyes filled with tears, "But what will we do? They have to come back. They have to!"

Lucy seemed unable to speak. She chewed her bottom lip and tears spilled silently down her cheeks. Olivia sat between her sisters and placed an arm around each of them. "We will go to Pemberley and our Aunt Darcy."

"B…b…but she does not know us!" Hannah cried.

"We can work for her. She does not have to know us. Mama said even the servants at Pemberley have plenty of food and nice clothes."

"I don't want nice clothes, and I don't wanna go to Pemmerly! I want Mama!" Hannah argued. Of the five girls, Hannah was her mother's clear favourite. The idea that her beloved mama might never return was not at all acceptable to the little girl.

Olivia wanted to cry too. She wanted to laugh and play with her sisters. She wanted to climb trees and vex her mama. Instead, she had to determine how she was to feed and care for herself and her sisters. She pasted a smile on her face and said, "I know. I want Mama as well. But Hannah, Lucy, Mama has been away too long this time. We cannot stay here without her. We must leave. It is the only way."

"What if Mama comes back? What if she cannot find us?" Hannah pleaded.

Olivia took Hannah and Lucy's hands in her own. "It was Mama who told me about Pemberley and Aunt Darcy. She will know to look for us there. If she comes back, she will know. I promise." Olivia felt a little guilty making such a promise. She thought it unlikely that her mother would ever return. If she did, Olivia thought it likely her mother would be too foxed to consider where her children had gone.

Lucy finally spoke. "But how will we get there?"

Here, Olivia told what she hoped would be the only lie of their coming journey. "Don't worry. I have it all planned out, but first, we must walk to the inn."

The contents of this story are the sole property of the author. Any duplication in whole or in part for publication is strictly prohibited. And rather rude really.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ready for the next installment?_

 _The canon characters do not belong to me. The rest of it, however, does. The contents of this story are the sole property of the author. Any duplication in whole or in part for publication is strictly prohibited._

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 _Last time: "I have it all planned out, but first, we must walk to the inn."_

Once they finished talking, the children gathered their mother's cooking pot, the curtain from the window and their few other possessions. Then they removed the food from Mr. Keep's basket, tied it in a bundle with their blanket, and left their home for the last time. As they walked to the inn, Olivia thought of her father's words. Wickham had once told his daughter that the secret to getting away with almost anything was to appear as though you belonged. He boasted to his daughter that he never skulked about in corners or alleyways, he simply walked into any situation as if it was his natural right to be there. Although she had never considered her father to be a great source of wisdom, she hoped he was correct. As it happened, Wickham's advice was both more difficult and much easier to follow than she thought. It was more difficult because there was nowhere outside a nursery that a group of young children truly belonged. It was easier because adults tend to dismiss children as unimportant as long as they are quiet, and the Wickham sisters were very quiet.

They arrived at the inn as a delivery wagon was being unloaded. It was not the usual open sort of wagon. This one had a cover and a place where doors had once been. Olivia told her sisters to wait out of sight while she returned Mr. Keep's basket. She made her away around the wagon to the back. When Mr. Keep chastised her for being in the way of his important delivery, she flashed him an innocent smile and held out the empty basket. The man was immediately disarmed. He asked if she had spoken to her father and she assured him that she would as soon as she saw him. Olivia then stepped aside, but continued to listen as Mr. Keep and the delivery man, who she soon learned was called White, carried on their conversation.

"Are ya stayin' on t'night then, White?" Mr. Keep asked.

"Not a chance. There's a sweet girl in Lambton I've not seen in a week! I can be with her three days' time if I leave straight away," replied the man called White.

"Women. More trouble'n dere worf iffin ya ask me!"

Olivia did not stay to hear the rest. Mr. White was going to Lambton; she did not need to know any more. This had to be a sign, not that she believed in such things. She considered their food supplies for a moment. It would be difficult to make what little remained last for three days. But, she reasoned, the man would have to stop and eat himself. If there was an inn close by, she knew how to get food for herself and her sisters. Most places threw the leftover food away at night, and many of the patrons tossed bits of fruit, vegetables, or even meat aside. The leavings were usually still quite good. It had only been the previous night's rain that had stopped her scavenging for their supper. Then she thought of how they might remain hidden for so long. That would be more difficult, but she hoped to make it work.

Olivia returned to her sisters. "The wagon that will take us to our aunt Darcy is almost unloaded. Come, we must climb on quickly!" She picked up Frances while Hannah carried little Maria. They walked swiftly to the back of the wagon and clambered aboard. Olivia placed Maria inside first, then scrambled up after her so she could assist the other girls as they followed. Once they were all five inside, she led her sisters past the barrels remaining in the wagon and to the front. There they found some discarded burlap sacks and bits of loose straw. Olivia and Hannah moved quickly to gather all the straw they could find into a pile and covered it with the burlap sacks. "See how comfortable we shall be?" Olivia said to her sisters. "It will be like having our bed with us!"

Hannah looked skeptical and said, "This better work! I don't like it in here. 'Tis dark and it smells bad!"

Lucy was excited. "It is our very own 'venture, just like mama's stories! Only I hope we do not hafto get losted!"

Olivia answered both her sisters, "Of course it will work! We will be there in three days, and we shall not get lost. Mr. White came from Derbyshire, so he knows the way back. Now, we must all be very quiet until we leave this place. Once the wagon is moving, then we can talk again." Olivia then told Frances they were playing a game and she had to be quiet like mouse until the wagon began moving. Fortunately, Maria was tired after the long walk and had fallen asleep almost instantly.

When Mr. White finally pulled tight the leather strap across the back of the wagon Olivia released a breath she had not even realized she was holding. Minutes later they lurched forward and the sound of wheels on uneven roads filled their ears. Olivia's supposition that they could talk and make noise once they were moving proved to be correct. Even when Maria began wailing a few hours later, Mr. White seemed oblivious to their presence. Olivia tore strips from their old curtain to fashion dolls for each of them and set the remaining fabric aside for use as a rag. She then joined Hannah and Lucy as they took turns telling stories and imagining how their lives would be once they reached Pemberley. Of course, they all believed they would have to work. Olivia thought Maria might be the exception. Maria was so little that perhaps Aunt Darcy would like to keep her as a daughter. That someone might welcome and love all of them was beyond anything their young minds could imagine. Not even their own parents had loved them that well.

By the time the wagon stopped for the night, the Wickham sisters were exhausted. The hours had passed quickly and excitement at having made it so far overwhelmed any lingering discomfort.

When Olivia could see they were safely in a barn and likely to be left on their own for the night, she allowed all of them to leave the wagon. While her sisters explored, Olivia emptied the pail they had found to use as a chamber pot. Finding it had been a relief for if it had not been rattling around in the wagon, the girls may have been forced to use their cooking pot instead. That chore taken care of, Olivia set about exploring with her sisters. She made a game of having them gather more straw for their burlap beds and then convinced all of them to wash using water she fetched from the horse trough outside.

"Ollie, I'm hungry!" Hannah said once she was done washing. Lucy agreed with Hannah and little Fran tugged on Olivia's dress and said, "Hungy, Ollie!"

"If I am to look for food, then you must promise to stay inside and watch the babies," Olivia said as she looked closely at Hannah and Lucy. "Do not go outside. Promise!"

Hannah rolled her eyes and the ever-serious Lucy said, "I'm not some cork-brained girl you know!

I know how to act and how to take care of my sisters."

"You're not stupid, but you are a hoyden! Maybe hoydens don't know enough to stay inside when they ought," Hannah teased.

Lucy looked ready to argue, but Olivia interrupted before they could continue. "We're all going to be very hungry if you continue like this. I can't leave if you two are going to fight."

"Why not?" Hannah asked. "We fight all the time."

Olivia let out an exasperated breath. "I know. But can you just wait until I get back? If you're fighting you can't watch the babies. If you can't watch the babies, I can't leave. And if I can't leave….we can't eat," she reasoned.

Hannah gave a great sigh and said, "Fine. We won't fight until you get back. Okay?"

"Excellent. Now, wish me luck!"

Lucy stopped Olivia before she could leave, "You will come back, Ollie. Won't you? You won't leave us forever and ever?"

Olivia turned and looked solemnly in Lucy's eyes. "I promise to always come back for you. Always." Olivia then kissed each of her sisters on the forehead and slipped into the night.

Finding food proved to be an easy task, as the barn they were in was just behind the posting inn. She watched for several minutes, then walked straight to the back door and boldly knocked. The cook was a friendly looking older woman with happy eyes that matched the grey of her hair.

"So, wha' we got here? Are you lost?" The cook asked kindly when she saw Olivia.

"No, mum. I was hoping you might need assistance sweeping the floors or perhaps scrubbing pots?" Olivia answered with more bravery than she felt.

The cook peered at Olivia for a moment before answering, "Aye. C'mon then. I can't give ya any money mind. But I reckon I can feed ya."

Olivia thanked the woman, who was called Mrs. Jones, found a broom and went to work. The cook saw a few of the other women in the kitchen staring at the child and boomed, "All o' ya! Back to work! This scrap of a girl is gettin' more done than the lot o' you put together!" That ended any curiosity about the small girl with dark eyes, unruly hair and mischievous smile.

When she had worked for just above an hour, the cook called her aside. "Now girlie, how many mouves 'ave you got to feed?"

"Just me and my four sisters, mum." Olivia answered politely.

"Good Lord o' mercy! What sort of world sends a child to feed a whole family?"

"We are going to visit my aunt," Olivia began to explain. Then she saw the skepticism in the older woman's eyes and hastened to add, "'Tis a surprise. She does not know we are coming else she would have provided for us."

The woman was not deceived. "Runnin' away then are ya? Jus' tell me this. Do ya really have an auntie that yer goin' to?"

"Yes, mum. She lives all the way in Derbyshire, near Lambton, at a place called Pemberley." Olivia answered truthfully. She did not mention that she had no idea if her aunt really lived there or what they would do if there was no Aunt Darcy.

"Well, I ain't never 'eard o' no Pemberley, but Lambton is anover two days from 'ere. Alright then. Le's see what we got." With that, the cook ceased her questioning and began gathering food from around the kitchen. Unlike Mr. Keep who had given her old bread and scraps, this woman gave her fresh apples, good cheese, two loaves of bread and a large portion of ham. When one of the kitchen maids looked to protest, the cook put an immediate end to it, "Mr. Jones knows dis is my kitchen! If anyone'll be tellin' my 'usband 'ow things went tonight, it'll be me. Now mind yerself and get back to work!" Under her breath she continued, "As if my Jonesie would let little ones go 'ungry. Ungrateful wretch."

Olivia wisely pretended not to hear any of this. She waited until the cook handed her the basket laden with food and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Jones. Thank you very much." The basket was quite heavy and Oliva was thankful it was a short walk back to the barn.

She found her sisters playing with their dolls, which now had straw for hair. Their fight was long forgotten and she could hear them giggling together. They were in an unused stall in the back of the barn where they were not likely to be seen or heard by anyone passing by. The girls were in awe of the feast before them and needed very little persuading to wash again so they might eat.

Olivia did not wish to risk the chance that Mr. White might leave while they were yet sleeping, so they slept that night in the wagon both on and under their newly filled burlap sacks and curled together with the thin blanket brought from home. As she drifted off to sleep, Olivia thought their situation was not at all bad and in fact, the sleeping arrangement was not that different from home. Except perhaps they were a bit warmer.

Olivia's instinct to sleep in the wagon was proved correct when she woke the next day to discover the sun was already over the horizon and the barn was no longer in sight. The second day of their journey was not as easily passed as the first. The older girls grew tired of sharing stories, Olivia supposed Maria must be getting a tooth as she was fretful and crying most of the day, and Frances had to be constantly dragged back to their hiding place behind the empty barrels. Fran did not cease her attempts to escape until Lucy, in a fit of temper, threatened, "Sit down right now Frances Catherine Wickham or I'll throw you in that barrel and keep you there!"

Olivia tried to chastise the five-year-old, saying, "Lucy. That is unkind. Fran is too little and you should be nicer to her!"

Then Hannah shouted in Lucy's defense, "You cannot tell us what to do Ollie! You are not mama!" With that, Olivia wished she could ride a horse next to the wagon rather than be confined with her sisters inside it. She gathered Frances to her lap and began telling her a story about Longbourn, pretty dresses and fine spring days. It almost worked, but Maria started crying again and her wails were so loud they drowned out all other sound.

Maria finally cried herself to sleep, but not before her tears distressed Frances so greatly that the three-year-old joined her baby sister in a tantrum of prodigious proportions. Hannah and Lucy began fighting over who should have the best place on the straw and by mid-afternoon even Olivia was in a bad temper. By day's end the sisters were hot, thirsty, and decidedly unhappy in each other's company.

When they finally stopped for the night, they very nearly tripped over one another in their haste to get out. Olivia struggled to hold her younger sisters back while she made sure it was safe to exit. She crept to the back of the wagon and looked cautiously around. As they had been the night before, they were in a large stable. There were other wagons and carriages, but none that looked like theirs. Olivia was glad their wagon was unique, but she was worried about the presence of so many others. More wagons meant more people and a greater risk of discovery. She thought they were far enough from home now that they would not be sent back, but she was uncertain what would happen if five little girls were caught hiding in the stable.

The sisters helped one another down from the wagon and Frances immediately began running through the wheels of the various vehicles. She called out to no particular sister, "Chase me sissy, chase me!" So they did. Even Maria joined in the game. She crawled after her elder sisters shrieking with laughter. And for those few minutes, Olivia was just a little girl playing chase. The children ran under and around the carriages and wagons, threw straw at one another, and finally collapsed in a giggling heap on the floor. Olivia clambered back into the wagon to retrieve the pail, the cooking pot, and their food. When Olivia stepped out to empty the pail, she was delighted to discover a small stream running behind the stable. It was not yet fully dark, so she retrieved her sisters and led them a slight distance upstream. There she found a shallow place she hoped was not easily seen from a distance. They filled their cooking pot with water to drink later, then took turns rinsing themselves in the cold, shallow creek. While Olivia, Hannah, Lucy and even Fran found splashing about to be great fun, Maria was not at all interested in being wet and let loose a wail so loud that Olivia feared half the town would come in search of them. She allowed her baby sister to win that particular fight. What was a little dirt in comparison to being caught and perhaps separated forever?

Once again following her father's advice, Olivia led her sisters into the stable as though they had every right to be there. Hannah and Lucy carried the cooking pot full of water between them, while Olivia balanced Maria on one hip and used her free hand to guide Fran. If anyone noticed the five wet and somewhat bedraggled girls, they did not comment. In truth, the children were observed, but every adult assumed some other person in the area was responsible for the ragged group. The girls walked directly to their wagon and made a picnic for themselves underneath it. Their good natures had been restored by a combination of food, water, and exercise and they found themselves once again able to enjoy one another's company. They spent the second night much as they had the first, sleeping in the wagon between layers of straw-stuffed burlap sacks and dreaming of the promise of a better tomorrow.

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So...how 'bout those Wickham girls? Please comment/review and let me know what you think. Also, if you want to see the wagon I had in mind, you can find it at johnsmilitaryhistory dotcomslash ft_ligonier_v8 dotjpg For the purposes of this story, I am assuming the wagon was acquired second hand and the doors were damaged beyond repair, so our Mr. White removed them and uses a leather strap to hold his merchandise in place.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all your lovely thoughts and comments. I am grateful so many of you have seen Olivia as I wished to portray her...party Lydia, part Elizabeth, part Mr. Bennet, a little Wickham, but all herself. If your hearts have been breaking, hang in there. Today is a good day for our intrepid travelers.**

 **The canon characters do not belong to me. The rest of it, however, does. Any duplication in whole or in part for publication is strictly prohibited.**

 _Olivia and her sisters have made it through the first two days of their journey. Let's hop in the wagon and join them for their final day!_

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The third day and final day of their journey began well enough. The girls slept late into the morning and awoke filled with excitement at the prospect of at last reaching their destination. The hopeless collection of knots and tangles in their hair did not stop the older girls from taking turns pretending to be each other's lady's maid and the little ones were contentedly playing with the dolls and babbling together in their own language. Maria was still cranky, but did not cry as much as the day before. The challenges of three days' travel could not be so easily overcome, however, and it was not long before good tempers gave way to bad. There was plenty of food still, but it was not as good after a full day and night on dusty roads. Additionally, they were tired of being confined to the wagon all day and longed to run and play. The energy of so many children in a small space could not be contained. As they wrestled and squirmed and fidgeted and bickered, someone, perhaps Hannah or Lucy, though both immediately blamed Fran, knocked over the makeshift chamber pot. Its contents quickly spread over the wagon floor and were absorbed by the straw and burlap on which they were all sitting. They were forced to endure the rest of the journey with smelly, damp straw, and increasingly poor tempers.

When the wagon had finally come to a stop for what even little Fran felt must be the final time, the girls could scarcely contain their eagerness to be out of it. In their hurry to escape, even Olivia did not exercise much caution. They tumbled over one another and fairly leapt to the ground. When the younger girls were settled and Hannah was holding a sleeping Maria in both arms, Olivia clambered back up to retrieve their mother's cooking pot, the thin blanket they had brought from home, and the remains of their food. From Lambton, she had no real idea how they would get to Pemberley, or even how much further they would have to travel.

"Well then, now we are in Lambton, we need only find someone to take us to our aunt. If she is as great as Mama said, then she will be easy enough to find." Olivia announced to her sisters.

Lucy gave her eldest sister a hard look and asked, "Are we gonna get in a diff'rent wagon? 'Cause our old one stinks!"

"I am not getting back in there!" Hannah declared as she stamped her foot.

Olivia spoke before her younger siblings could protest further. "We are taking a different wagon to see our aunt. Come, let's go outside and find it!"

Once they were all outside, Olivia gave her sisters careful instructions. "We must find the wagon that is going to Pemberley. To do that, I need both of you to listen closely to the people around us. If you hear anyone say Darcy or Pemberley, then tug on my dress and show me who it is so we can go with them."

Her nine-year old voice was not as quiet as she might have thought. Olivia was overheard by no fewer than six people. Several simply looked at the girls, and seeing their poor attire, tangled hair, and dirty appearance, looked swiftly away. One woman could be heard to mutter the words disgraceful, wretched, and liars. Olivia could not let that stand. She balled her small fists and held them at her hips. Raising her chin, she said, "We are not liars! We have traveled three days to visit our aunt Darcy at Pemberley. You would not look your best if you had ridden in the back of a wagon for three days with no one to help you!"

The woman looked affronted. "If you little beasts were any relation to Mrs. Darcy someone here would know you. I can assure you we have met all the family. The Darcys are well-known and highly respected here."

Olivia narrowed her eyes at the woman, and rather than saying anything further to her turned instead to her sisters. "Lucy, do you still have the coin you found last night?" Lucy nodded her head and Olivia continued, "May I have it, please? I shall pay you back as soon as I have another." Lucy held the coin out in her dirty palm. Olivia took the coin then turned again to the woman and said, "This is for you madam."

The woman sniffed. "What need have I for your paltry coin, girl?"

"I do not know, but I thought you must be very poor if you cannot even afford good manners." The woman gasped and her hand flew to her chest. Before the battle of words could continue, a man intervened.

"She got you there, missus," He said to the woman. Then he turned his attention to Olivia and her sisters. "Now, tell me how yer related to Mrs. Darcy and how ya came to be here."

"I am Olivia Jane Wickham and Aunt Darcy is my mama's sister."

At the name Wickham, the man gave a knowing nod. "Yer George Wickham's girls then?"

Olivia looked uncomfortable. She knew her father was not the best of men and she could see that the gentleman before her did not care for him at all. "Our mother is Lydia Bennet Wickham." She answered carefully.

"Ah. I had heard one of Mrs. Darcy's sisters was married to that reprobate. How did ya come to be here without yer mama then?"

Olivia told a highly edited version of their story. She said nothing of the family's frequent moves, her parents' love for alcohol, or that the girls had been on their own for nearly a week when they decided to come to Derbyshire. Instead she made it sound as though they had been sent to their aunt with the full blessing of their parents. The man looked skeptical, but did not question her further. "I'm Mr. Thompson. I can take ya ta yer aunt."

He started toward an open wagon. When he looked back and saw the girls were still rooted in place he said, "C'mon then. Don't dawdle. 'Tis nigh on five miles to Pemberley and I wanta be back fer tea!"

The girls scrambled to obey. Olivia scooped Maria up in one arm and used the other to hold Frances' hand. Lucy and Hannah placed the dolls and their blanket in the cooking pot and carried it between them. When Mr. Thompson saw them, he relieved the younger girls of their burden. As they no longer had the pot to carry, Lucy and Hannah raced to the wagon, ignoring their elder sister's pleas to at least pretend to be ladies. When Olivia, Maria, and Frances caught up, Mr. Thompson said, "Don' worry child. No one who matters will think any less of you and yer sisters for havin' a bit o' fun."

Olivia gave him a weary smile. "Mostly I try not to care what anyone thinks. But I want to make a good impression on our aunt. We are strangers to her, and I want her to like us."

"Ah, I see," said Mr. Thompson. "You've nothin' to worry about then. Yer aunt is the kindest lady you'll ever meet. I never heard her say a bad thing about anyone."

"I hope you're right." Olivia tried to keep the skepticism from her voice.

Mr. Thompson helped the girls into the back of the wagon and admonished them to sit away from the edge. In a matter of minutes, they were watching Lambton fade away. Maria fell asleep with her head on Olivia's chest and a sleeping Frances was draped over Hannah and Lucy's laps. The three older girls exchanged the occasional worried look, but none were brave enough to speak. Now that they were nearing the end of their journey, excitement was giving way to fear. Just as the tension was becoming unbearable, the wagon slowed and Mr. Thompson called back to them. "When we get to the top o' this hill, look down into the valley on yer left."

The girls moved carefully to one side of the wagon. Frances was awake and tucked securely between Lucy and Hannah, while Olivia held a still sleeping Maria. When they reached the appointed place, the sisters gasped at the sight before them. Nestled in rolling hills of the valley below was the largest house any of them had ever seen. "Is that Pemmerly?" Hannah asked.

"'Tis Pem-ber-ley" Olivia enunciated carefully. "And yes, I believe that is it."

Then they were talking over one another. "'Tis a castle!"

"No, 'tis bigger than a castle!"

"Does the King live here?"

"Can you count the windows?"

"Look, it glows like a candle!"

"Is that a lake?"

"Does it have its own woods?"

And so the conversation, such as it was, continued until they heard the crunch of gravel under the wheels. Then a dreadful silence came over the girls and they found themselves unable to speak even to each other. They watched a dark-haired woman playing with three boys. They were all laughing, even the woman in the beautiful gown. The smallest boy ran up to the woman and tugged on her sleeve. She bent to peer into his hand, then smiled and said something that made the boy shout and jump in the air. The woman lifted the boy in the air and laughed. She turned in the direction of the drive and paused. The woman gazed intently at the approaching wagon, then kissed the boy on the cheek before setting him down. The largest of the boys then came up to her and spoke. She shook her head and appeared to reply. Then the third boy joined the group. A moment later, the boys looked again at the wagon then the biggest took the smallest by the hand and the three started toward the house. The woman remained where she was, watching their approach. When they were near enough, Mr. Thompson cried out, "Good afternoon, missus!"

Olivia's stomach tightened in fear. This was the moment she had both wished for and dreaded these last three days. Soon she would know the fate of herself and her sisters.

Elizabeth Darcy was helping her sons catch frogs. It was a favourite activity of the three active boys and they were currently having a competition to see who could catch the largest specimen before their father joined them. Her youngest son, six-year old Alex, ran to his mother, pulled on her sleeve and said, "Look, mama! Look how big he is!"

Elizabeth bent to look in the boy's hand and said, "I believe you have found the largest frog ever seen at Pemberley!" Alex whooped his excitement and jumped in the air. Caught in his joy, Elizabeth grasped her youngest son under both arms and swung him through the air. As she did, she saw an unknown wagon coming down the main drive. She quickly returned Alex to solid ground and peered at the approaching cart.

Nine-year old Thomas, her oldest son, soon joined her. He, too, had seen someone coming. He looked to his mother, "Who is it, Mama? I thought it might be Mr. Jones, but he has no children."

Her son was correct. Mr. Jones, the tenant most likely to come in a wagon, had no children. The wagon now arriving appeared to contain several. "I am sure I do not know. Take your brothers and go fetch your papa, if you please." Thomas looked as though he might argue but thought better of it and dragged his protesting younger brothers inside. Elizabeth signaled a nearby servant to follow the boys and then moved closer to the carriage. When she was in hailing distance, the driver called out.

"Good morning, missus Darcy. Only I got these kids here says you're their aunt!"

Elizabeth could not hide her surprise. None of her sisters' children were of an age to travel alone. She drew closer to the wagon and from the back came five little girls. The first three looked to be near the ages of her own children with the last two being much younger. It was not until one of the older girls spoke that she finally understood.


	4. Chapter 4

**The canon characters do not belong to me (and there are a couple this time). The contents of this story are the sole property of the author and any duplication in whole or in part for publication is strictly prohibited.**

 **Let's see how things are going at Pemberley...**

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When Mr. Thompson brought the wagon to a stop, Olivia led her sisters quickly to the back of the wagon then down to the ground, forgetting entirely about the few belongings remaining behind. She tried to look at them and see what the woman might see, but that only caused her to be more nervous. They were five thin, dirty, disheveled children who looked worse than any orphan she had ever seen in the church poor house. It was hopeless. Hannah and Lucy stood with Frances between them while Olivia continued to hold Maria. After Mr. Thompson told the woman who they were, she came to the back of the wagon. Olivia was stunned at the woman's resemblance to her own mother. This had to be her aunt Darcy. She was shorter than Lydia, but had her dark, curly hair and a smile that reminded Olivia of the days before her mother had developed a love of for sherry. For a long moment, Olivia could not speak.

It was Lucy who broke the silence. She released Frances' hand, stepped forward, performed an awkward curtsey and said, "I am Lucy Elizabeth Wickham. Are you my aunt Darcy? Only my mama said you married a prince and lived in a beautiful castle, so you must be my aunt because this is the most beautifulest place I've ever seen! I'm sorry we don't smell very good, but Ollie didn't bring any soap and the horse water was disgusting. The stream wasn't bad, but it was too cold to stay in for very long. And anyway that was last night and today Frannie spilled the pail in the first wagon and it got everywhere and we couldn't take a bath before we had to come here. Do you have any dollies?

Olivia found her voice, "Hush, Lucy." She stepped forward and tried to curtsey while holding the baby. "Good afternoon, ma'am. I am Olivia Wickham and these are my sisters, Hannah, Lucy, Frances, and Maria." She waited nervously for the woman to speak.

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears as realization struck. These were Lydia's children, and they were alone. She knelt on the ground before the five girls. "Yes, I am your aunt Darcy. No, I do not have any dollies, but I am certain we can find some for you, and I am very, very pleased to meet you." Her smile was all the encouragement the younger girls required. Hannah and Lucy flung their arms around Elizabeth, then pulled away and began to dance in the drive.

Frances looked wide-eyed at the scene before her. When Hannah and Lucy released Elizabeth, Frances toddled over and peered up at the strange woman. After several moments she raised her arms and said, "Up pease, Mama." Elizabeth was certain her heart would break as she lifted the little girl up, kissed her forehead and tucked the child to her side. She remained kneeling as she waited for Olivia.

Olivia watched as the elegant woman in the fine gown knelt in the gravel. The lady seemed not to mind getting dirty, she had not flinched when Hannah and Lucy wrapped their arms around her, and she did not flinch away from the rather sour smell emanating from all five of the girls. It was when the lady, her aunt Darcy, took Frances in her arms that Olivia decided she had made the right choice in coming to Pemberley. She spoke for the first time as Mr. Thompson was turning the wagon to leave. Her voice was shaking. "Can we stay then? We can all work very hard. Well, Hannah and Lucy and I can. Fran and Maria are too little."

Elizabeth's tears fell in earnest. She reached out with her free arm and placed a hand on Olivia's cheek. "You do not have to work, dearest, and you may stay as long as you like." Frances squirmed and Elizabeth released her to play with her sisters. "May I hold Maria?" Elizabeth asked her niece. Olivia shifted Maria in her arms and held her out for Elizabeth to take. Elizabeth took Maria in one arm and opened the other in invitation. Olivia considered her aunt for a long while, then stepped into her embrace. When she felt Elizabeth's arm close around her, Olivia nearly sobbed in relief. She could not remember the last time she felt cared for by any other than her younger sisters.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, master of Pemberley, husband to Elizabeth and father to Thomas, Nathaniel, and Alexander, had been summoned by both his eldest son and a footman. He was told only that there were unexpected visitors in front of the house and that Mrs. Darcy requested his presence. When he arrived he was greeted with the sight of three little girls prancing in the grass while his wife knelt on the ground holding an infant in one arm and embracing a young girl in the other. "Elizabeth?" All of his questions were contained in those four syllables. Her only reply was to lift her tear filled eyes to his and mouth the word, "Lydia." He nodded, then approached his wife and knelt beside her. He spoke softly, "I am your uncle Darcy."

Olivia startled. She looked to Elizabeth's face first and on seeing a smile there, decided to answer.

"I am Olivia Wickham. My sisters call me Ollie. This is Maria."

"I am pleased to meet you Miss Wickham. Will you introduce your other sisters?"

Olivia nodded and summoned her younger siblings. She tried to remember what her mother had taught her about making introductions. It had seemed so silly then. "Uncle Darcy, may I present my sisters, Hannah, Lucy, and Frances Wickham. Sisters, this is our uncle Darcy."

Before he could speak, Lucy said, "I knowed you were my uncle! My mama said you were a prince. Princes are handsome and you are handsome so you have to be a prince. If you are my uncle and you are a prince, am I a princess?"

Hannah broke in, "No bacon-brain. Only the prince's daughter is a princess."

Olivia chastised, "Hannah, do not call names, it is unkind."

Growing up in a household of sisters and years of raising her own children told Elizabeth a storm was about to break among the Wickham sisters. She intervened before it could go any further. "Ladies, perhaps we should go inside. I believe Mrs. Givens can organize baths for all of you while we sort out your rooms. Now, please greet your uncle and let us go inside."

Darcy took Maria from Elizabeth as he helped her from the ground. When his wife was securely on her feet she reached to take Maria from him. When Elizabeth reached for the child, Maria clung tighter to Darcy's neck. He smirked, "I see she has already chosen a favourite." He teased his wife.

Elizabeth laughed. "Ha. So long as you do not choose a favourite, I shall consider myself safe."

Frances toddled forward and seeing that her aunt's arms were once again free, tugged on Elizabeth's skirts and said again, "Up pease, Mama." Elizabeth exchanged a warm look with her husband and swept the child into her arms while Maria snuggled in closer to Darcy. Hannah and Lucy ceased their quarrel and began following Elizabeth and Darcy to the house. Olivia trailed behind in awed silence. She marveled at the pair. If her own mother had spoken in such a teasing tone to her father, it would not have ended with laughter. Maybe her mama had been correct. Maybe Pemberley really was magical. Olivia followed her aunt and uncle inside and considered what she had learned. She and her sisters were allowed to stay, they would not have to work, and they were to be given rooms. "Aunt Darcy?" She asked quietly.

Elizabeth slowed her steps and moved alongside her niece. "Yes, Ollie? Oh, may I call you Ollie? Or do you prefer Olivia, or perhaps Liv?"

"I like Liv. No one has called me that before. It sounds very grown up. Maybe that could be your name for me?" Olivia turned wide eyes to her aunt. It seemed odd for anyone to take such an interest in her preferences.

"If you would like. Now, Liv, what is your question?"

"Will you make us go back to our parents if they come?" Olivia felt a little guilty in hoping it would not be so. She had no desire to return to her previous life.

Before Elizabeth could formulate a reply, Darcy cut in. He answered Olivia, but spoke to his wife. "We will do all we can to ensure that you and your sisters might remain at Pemberley until you are grown." Elizabeth flashed her husband a look of deepest gratitude.

"You would do that?" Olivia asked. She was nearly overwhelmed with relief. Such an offer was beyond anything she had thought possible.

"You are my family. I will do whatever is necessary to secure your safety and comfort." Darcy said simply.

"Oh," was the only reply Olivia could offer. She could not quite comprehend all she had just heard, but she was beginning to suspect all would indeed be well.

Once indoors all five of the Wickham girls were whisked away for baths. Olivia watched in wondrous silence as her aunt and uncle helped get the little ones settled. When Uncle Darcy had first attempted to give Maria over to a maid, the toddler had clung almost violently to his neck. Rather than reacting in anger, the great man simply soothed her baby sister and gestured the maid to lead them upstairs. Once there, Uncle Darcy waited until his wife coaxed Frances into playing in her bath water, then talked softly to Maria until she was reaching for the water and her elder sister. In moments, Frances and Maria were splashing and playing as two maids patiently worked out the tangles in their hair and rinsed away the dirt of three days' travel. Olivia's surprise only increased when she realized they would each have their own bath, in warm water, with lovely, fragrant soap. Hannah and Lucy showed no reluctance to wash once they realized they would not have to share a tub. Lucy scarcely stopped speaking as she asked what she would wear, where she would sleep and what they were to have for dinner. When the maid referred to her as Miss Lucy, the little girl fairly squealed in excitement. Olivia observed all this without speaking. She simply could not understand how very different their lives were to become. Even as the maid tugged painfully at the tangles in Olivia's hair she could not help feeling that she must be asleep and all this was nothing more than a wonderful dream. Surely tomorrow she would wake and be in Durham under a tattered blanket on a thin mattress.

While Olivia and her sisters were being transformed from ragged orphans to proper-looking Darcy girls, Elizabeth consulted Mrs. Givens, looked in on and reassured her sons, and then sought her husband. She found him behind his desk in their shared study. She watched him for a moment before entering the room. His jacket hung carelessly over a chair, his shirtsleeves were rolled up revealing muscular forearms, and he was bent in concentration over the letter he was writing. She mused that while she had never doubted that she married a good man, today had only strengthened that conviction. When Lydia and Wickham's children had arrived with no prior warning there had not even been a need for conversation. It was simply understood that the Darcy family would accept the girls into their home. Such an event could only cause her to fall in love all over again. Elizabeth was stirred from her thoughts by Darcy's voice. "I am even now writing to my solicitor about the girls. I imagine it will take some time and perhaps a very little money, but we shall make them ours and protect them as necessary."

Elizabeth smiled. "I never doubted you would do such a thing." She moved to her desk as she continued speaking. "I must write our sisters. I believe they have daughters enough between the three of them that we shall have suitable clothing by morning. Enough to last until we can have the seamstress visit in any case."

"What of tonight?" Darcy asked as he continued writing.

"Our nieces are forever leaving one or two things behind when they visit. I am certain Mrs. Givens can make do with what we have for the nonce."

"The boys have often wished for a sister." Darcy mused.

"Just as we often wished for a daughter."

"And now there are five. Perhaps I will gain greater sympathy for your father."

Elizabeth laughed at that. "Your sympathy for him grows with every visit of our sisters and their families."

Darcy conceded the point. "Where will they sleep? There are not enough beds in the nursery."

"They will remain in the guest nursery tonight. We can begin sorting rooms tomorrow. I believe only Olivia will require her own room for now, though she may wish to remain with her sisters for a time. "

"I had not considered that." Darcy said as he sanded his letter.

"You are not a mother." Elizabeth stated blandly. "A father, no matter how excellent he may be, never thinks of such things."

"I suppose not. Have you finished your letters? I assume you wish them delivered tonight."

"I have and I do." Elizabeth sanded the last of her letters. "I will leave them in your capable hands whilst I go see to our new family members. We should speak to the boys tonight, but I think formal introductions might wait until the girls are better attired."

"I agree. I suppose I will not see you now until we retire."

"I think not. I will take a tray with Olivia and her sisters tonight. I would not wish them to dine alone. Then I will visit our sons before joining you."

"Very well," Darcy said as Elizabeth made to leave. "There is one thing though, before you go."

Elizabeth turned and watched as Darcy crossed the room to face her. "What is it my love?"

"Only this." Darcy took her in his arms. "I love you Elizabeth Darcy. I love you more today than yesterday, though less, I think, than I will tomorrow." He sealed his words with a deep kiss. Elizabeth met his passion with her own and only the knowledge of all that needed done caused them to part.

Several hours later, Olivia was on the softest bed she had ever known. She sat with her arms wrapped around her knees and her feet tucked neatly under the hem of her borrowed chemise. As she fingered the fine fabric she considered all that had passed. After having their evening meal with Aunt Darcy, Olivia, Hannah, and Lucy had taken it in turn to tell the story of their journey from Durham. While the girls often giggled or expressed their displeasure over portions of the trip, Aunt Darcy rarely looked amused and more often appeared close to tears. When they finished the tale, Aunt Darcy drew all of them close and promised they would never be alone again. Olivia shook her head and drew her thoughts back to the present. Three days ago, she worried over her future and that of her sisters as they slept in a drafty room with empty stomachs and only one blanket to share. Now they were here. Pemberley and her aunts were not just stories. After hearing their story and before tucking them into bed Aunt Darcy told the sisters of their other aunts, uncles, and cousins. There were three cousins at Pemberley, Thomas, Nathaniel, and Alexander whom they were to meet the following day. Then there was an Aunt and Uncle Bingley, an Aunt and Uncle Simons, and finally an Aunt and Uncle Knowles. There was also an Aunt Bennet who traveled the world with their cousin, Anne. There were more cousins than she could name. Whatever she had expected to happen on their arrival at Pemberley, it had not been the kind, warm welcome they had received. They were not to be servants, but rather, family. It was beyond her wildest imaginings. Their evening meal had consisted of more food than they could possibly eat, though they all tried. It was not until Aunt Darcy assured them there would be just as much food the next day that they finally stopped. She and her sisters were now in a room larger than any home she could remember. Hannah and Lucy were curled together in one bed as neither had wished to sleep without the other. Frances had cheerfully climbed into her own bed and now slept peacefully with her thumb securely in her mouth. Little Maria had fallen asleep as their aunt Darcy rocked her and crooned _Lavender's Blue._ As she looked once more over her sleeping sisters, Olivia began to feel something like hope.

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 _ **Thank you for your continued kind comments and reviews. All are appreciated. One more post next week and this tale will be all wrapped up.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**As always the canon characters do not belong to me. The rest is the sole property of the author. Any duplication for publication, in whole or in part, is strictly prohibited.**

 _The Wickham girls have reached the end of their journey and we have reached the end of our tale. Thank you for all your kind comments and reviews. They keep me writing! Now...read on dear readers, read on!  
_

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 **Epilogue**

Those first months at Pemberley were not without trials. The Wickham girls had never had any real rules or guidance, and the Darcy family had doubled overnight. It took time for everyone to find their place in the new situation. There were endless questions in the earliest days and Elizabeth found herself almost constantly explaining to Olivia, Lucy and Hannah that they were part of a new family now and that while they were not expected to work, they were expected to learn and to behave appropriately. There were many tears as Lucy and Hannah began to understand they would not likely see their parents again. Olivia cried too, but finally confessed to her aunt that they were tears of guilt. She was glad to be separated from her parents and feared the relief she felt made her a bad daughter. Elizabeth assured her niece that it was entirely possible to love one's family without wishing to have a closer connection to them. It was not the work of a few days or even weeks to overcome the neglect the children had suffered, but as the months wore on, the girls cried less, laughed more and grew ever more secure as they began to understand their new roles as beloved children. Olivia learned to allow Darcy and Elizabeth to care for her sisters and even for herself. She found she rather enjoyed being a child and was determined to experience every adventure made available to her. Alexander learned that he was still dear to his parents even though he was no longer the baby. He liked being an elder brother and was fiercely protective of his younger sisters, especially little Maria. All of the children took it in turns to love and hate their new siblings and Elizabeth was forced to often assure her husband that such mercurial changes were to be expected and might be repeated over the years.

One morning, several months after Olivia came to Pemberley, Thomas stomped into his father's study with all the indignation a ten-year old boy can muster, followed closely by an equally outraged Olivia.

"Father, you must tell Olivia she can not climb trees! It is not proper for a lady!" Thomas declared.

"You're just mad because I won!" Olivia returned.

Darcy regarded his son and niece. He congratulated himself on concealing his mirth when he replied, "Are you angry that she has climbed the tree? Or that she did so more quickly than you?" Darcy had watched the episode from the window in his wife's sitting room. He suspected Olivia was even now considering the many ways in which she might lord her victory over her cousin.

Thomas deflated a little when he realized his father knew the whole of the situation. But he was not ready to relent. "It does not signify! Ollie is a lady and ladies do not climb trees!"

Olivia said nothing. She simply stood with her arm crossed over her chest and gave her cousin a glare that might have frozen the sun.

"Your mama climbs trees. Or have you forgotten it was she who taught you?" Darcy asked mildly.

"That is different. Mama is not a lady. She is just Mama!" Thomas defended his point.

"Ah, I see. Well then, I am afraid I must disappoint you, son." Darcy laid a gentle hand on Thomas's shoulder before continuing. "I know it is difficult to lose a competition, especially to your sister, but you must not use your loss as a weapon. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Thomas hung his head. "Yes, sir. I can not be angry just because Ollie is better than me at climbing trees."

Darcy laughed. "Who said Ollie was better?"

"I _am_ better, Uncle Darcy! Tommy is just mad because I climbed higher and faster!"

Darcy turned to her, "Olivia, please do not interrupt, it is not polite. You will understand my point in a moment." He returned his attention to Thomas, "She only defeated you once. Have you given up so quickly? Perhaps you might learn from each other. She was faster up the tree, but I believe you are the stronger swimmer." He could see Olivia consider his words. Neither child liked to admit the other might have superior skills in any area.

"So, Ollie can help me climb faster and I can help her swim better?"

"Absolutely. I am certain that you both have much to learn. Now, go. Both of you."

Thomas and Olivia scampered off, their fight forgotten almost before it had begun. There would be many more such skirmishes, but iIn the end all of the children learned to live and love and play together. In time, the Wickham girls were known as the Darcy girls and it was not long before only a very few remembered the five beauties had once gone by another name. Thomas, Nathaniel, and Alexander undertook to teach their new sisters the very important skills of rock skipping and frog catching. The latter was not an accomplishment Hannah or Maria ever learned to love, though they were perfectly able to compete if necessary. Elizabeth taught another generation of Darcy ladies to swim, and Darcy discovered he was much less sanguine about his daughters learning the skill than he had been his sister.

When Thomas finished school and was set to embark on his grand tour, Olivia insisted on a similar arrangement for herself. Her parents were not at all inclined to allow a young woman of nineteen to travel without a chaperone. A compromise was finally reached and Olivia joined her Aunt Bennet and Cousin Anne on a tour of the continent. When it was done, Olivia felt she received the better gift as she was given the benefit of Mary and Anne's experience, connections, and companionship.

The Darcy girls shared their coming out experiences with their Bingley, Knowles, and Simons cousins. Each of them shone in her own right and they supported each other in the way of sisters and friends. Hannah was the first of her sisters to marry. She found love with one of Thomas's classmates and the pair settled far from their families in Ireland. She counted herself lucky to have sufficient fortune to visit as often as she wished. Lucy was next to marry. Though she did not become a princess, as had been her childhood wish, she did become a countess when she wed her earl. No matter how grand her own homes however, Pemberley remained her favourite castle throughout her lifetime. When Frances was nineteen, a new parson was given the living at Kympton and Fran found that following her aunt Catherine's path as a parson's wife was precisely what she wanted. Maria did not marry until she was two and twenty. She chose a kind man with a small fortune and a great heart. The Darcy boys also each found love, married, and made their homes near Pemberley and every year as many of the Darcy siblings and their families as could do so, met at the great house to laugh, to love and to remember.

While Hannah, Lucy, and eventually Frances and Maria came out, were courted and married in their first few seasons, Olivia found she had little patience for society and no particular desire to wed. She had many friends and was a welcome guest at the best salons, and she would not be tamed. She was secure in the knowledge that she need not marry to safeguard her future as both her father and all her brothers had assured her she would always have a home at Pemberley. Always mindful of her own beginnings, Olivia focused her attention on the needs of children in England. She had always been aware of the problem, but it was not until the Factory Act of 1833 was passed that she became actively involved in trying to bring about change. From then on she worked tirelessly to draw attention to the plight of child workers and children who were mistreated in their homes. She thought the Factory Act to be a good beginning, but not nearly enough. In the years to come she would join with others whose efforts brought about the passage of the Mines Act of 1842, the Factory and Workshop Act of 1878 and the Education Act of 1880. The accomplishment of which she was most proud came near the end of her life when, at seven and seventy, she witnessed the passage of the Children's Charter. It was the first act of its kind which enabled the state to act on behalf of abused children. She considered passage of the act to be the ultimate prize for her years of struggling to protect the children of England.

 **Epilogue Part Deux, Or Whatever Happened to those Wicked Wickhams?**

Darcy had been correct when he told his wife it would not be a difficult matter to make the Wickham girls Darcy wards. Wickham required less money to surrender interest in his children than he had to wed their mother. It had taken Darcy nearly six months to track Wickham and Lydia to their deplorable lodgings in Bath. Once they were located, he insisted on delivering the final paperwork himself. He wanted to impress on Wickham the importance of remaining absent from his offspring. When Darcy called at the Wickham lodgings he found Lydia home alone and in a rare moment of sobriety. Where he had expected angry resistance, he found a woman broken and relieved to learn her "clever, lovely, girl" had indeed found a way to Pemberley. She gladly directed him to a nearby gaming house where she was certain her husband would be losing what little money he possessed. Darcy found he could not reserve much sympathy for a woman who had so casually abandoned his precious girls to their own devices. When Darcy arrived at the table, Wickham had just lost ten pounds he did not have to a gentleman not inclined to forgive the debt. Darcy took advantage of the circumstance and offered to pay the ten pounds in exchange for Wickham's signature. When Wickham asked what he was signing, Darcy was honest. "You are giving me your daughters and a promise to never disturb them again." Wickham laughed and said he was getting the better bargain.

It would be a decade before the family heard again of the Wickhams. A letter arrived from the vicar of a small country church near Portsmouth. A woman had arrived in his parish some six months before in very poor health. She gave him to understand her husband had died weeks earlier in a drunken fall off the docks. From her appearance, the vicar believed she was suffering the effects of a lifetime of drink. He and his wife took the woman in and cared for her in her final weeks. In her last days she finally told them the story of a thoughtless young woman who carelessly tossed aside her family first for a man unworthy of the title and then for the spirits that would numb her pain. The woman begged that when she passed the vicar might send word to her sister, Elizabeth Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire. She wished, the vicar said, to apologize for her selfishness and to thank her sister for loving her five daughters and giving them the life they deserved.

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So...external links are hard here, and the links I want to post are rather long for the work around. If you are curious about any of the Acts of Parliament referenced in this story, they are all real and can be found with a quick google search.


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